


Fire & Ash

by calinaannehart



Category: Brave (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Apocalypse, F/M, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calinaannehart/pseuds/calinaannehart
Summary: 'Choking on ash, I watched as the last tree in the forest started to burn. The sky, now a constant shade of red from the glow of the fires, was filled with acrid smoke, thick and suffocating.' Merida of Dunbroch has lost everything, her home, her family, her hopes. Can a reunion with a familiar face lead to a change of fate? Apocalyptic AU.This story was written as a short story challenge within a group of cosplayers who take Disney Princesses and give them a different spin with alternate themes. This story came from my apocalyptic version of Merida. Originally supposed to be under 5000 words this story ran away from me and has ended up as a multi chaptered saga. I hope you enjoy.
Relationships: Young Macintosh/Merida (Disney)





	Fire & Ash

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a short story challenge within a group of cosplayers who take Disney Princesses and give them a different spin with alternate themes. This story came from my apocalyptic version of Merida. Originally supposed to be under 5000 words this story ran away from me and has ended up as a multi chaptered saga. I hope you enjoy.

Choking on ash, I watched as the last tree in the forest started to burn. The sky, now a constant shade of red from the glow of the fires, was filled with acrid smoke, thick and suffocating.

Tear tracks streaked their way down my soot covers cheeks as I turned away from the flames and headed back to Angus, my stead, standing where I’d left him at what remained of the ford. I cupped my hands in its depths and brought them to my lips, my throat burned from the smoke and was instantly soothed by the waters.

“We have to keep moving.” I said, as I pulled the empty canteens from my pack. “We have to get back to safe ground.”

One by one I submerged the canteens in the ford, filling them to the brim. I had no idea when we would be able to return for more, clean water was scarce these days. As I repacked the canteens a movement in the distance caught my eye. The day was dark, the sun blocked by the plumes of smoke, but my eyesight was near perfect.

Swords. Spears. A patrol. I knew of very few allies still alive and fighting so it had to be the remains of clan Baird. Village after village they had stormed and burned to the ground, ripped families apart, wiped out generations of men. All because he wanted a wife. All because he wanted it to be me.

Guilt was a constant presence, if I had married his son would any of this happened? Would so many have died? Five years of fighting. Five years of killing. Five years since I had seen my parents, my brothers.

A blue banner appeared over the crest of the hill baring the Baird coat of arms. It was time to leave, I couldn't risk being caught out in the open again. I climbed aboard Angus and turned him towards the smouldering tree line.

"Be brave," I whispered in his ear. "My good lad." He let out a nicker and kicked out a hind leg then took off, gathering speed, towards the burning forest.

An arrow flew past my left ear, the rustle of the fletching audible over the roaring flames. We were fifty foot from the tree line. A jolt to my spine turned my head, an arrow protruded from the shield I had slung across my back. Thanking the stars for its placement I turned back to our intended target, there was a small gap in the flames, a few shrubs were yet to catch. If we hurried, we might make it before the top branches started to burn.

Twenty foot, arrows were hitting the ground all around. Ten foot. Angus let out a snort as one sunk into his flank. Three foot, the smoke surrounded us as Angus kicked off from the ground, the flames licking feet and singeing the hem of my cloak as we soared over them. A searing pain shot through my left shoulder which threw me forward onto Angus' neck. I wrapped my fingers in his mane and held fast as we exited the wall of fire.

We landed with a jolt, but Angus did not hesitate, he cantered through the scorched undergrowth and down Dunsinane hill toward the caves. I alone knew of their existence, so they offered a safe hideaway. I had discovered them as a wee bairne while hunting for Will O’ The Wisp’s, my foot had slipped on a damp rock and I tumbled off the ledge on which I had been perched. When I had righted myself, a dark entrance stood before me. Many hours I had spent exploring those caves, drawing on the walls, creating my own tapestries and legends, tales of battles and victories. In one picture King Fergus stood triumphant in the midst of an epic battle with the clan Baird, our rivals for centuries. I couldn’t look at my childhood scribbling anymore, too much had become reality.

My shoulder burned and I turned my head back to investigate. An arrow was stuck fast, the head embedded deep in my flesh. My supplies were limited, left with nothing but padding and herbs to treat the wound I knew I needed to treat it quickly.

As we approached the mouth of the cave, I knew instantly that something was different. Something was wrong. Angus sensed it too as he stopped in his tracks, a hoof raised in anticipation. I slid from his back, wincing as the arrow in my shoulder shifted. My vision blurred and my feet stumbled on the rocks as I drew my sword. It took all my strength to raise it in front of me as a dark figure emerged from the cave mouth.

"H...hold," I breathed as the colours before me blurred, blue, green and black. The colours of a kilt, a clan. "Stay b...back." I felt faint, my shoulder burned, pain radiated across my back, I was falling, the rocks coming toward me fast. I landed, but on something soft, in something soft. Arms. A face entered my line of vision, its features swirling, mixing together. My eyes rolled back into my head and I slept.

**************

I was warm. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt truly warm. It was too dangerous to light a fire at night; I couldn't risk being discovered. My body felt heavy, weighed down by something unseen, it was soft and comforting. I opened my eyes slowly, blinking a few times as they adjusted to the dim light of the cave. A small pile of embers sat in the middle of the open space, a pot perched on top with steam rising from it, twisting and swirling before evaporating in the air. My stomach growled as the smell of cooking meet drifted over to me.

A low chuckle sounded from somewhere out of my field of vision, any fogginess left over from my slumber fled as quick as a wisp as I bolted upright and pushed my back flush against the cave wall. Several bear skins, the weight that had covered me, slithered to the floor. My eyes darted round searching for the intruder. How could I have let my guard down? I was unarmed and wounded which made me vulnerable.

"Easy, you're safe." To my left, his features hidden by the shadows stood a figure, leaning against the wall. A bow hung from his right hand, my bow. "I'm not here to harm you." That voice. There was something familiar about it, like a ghost from my past.

"Who are you?" I demanded. "Show yourself."

I watched him pull in a deep breath before he stepped forward into the dim light of the fire. It had been three years since I had seen that face, yet I recognised it instantly for he too had once competed for my hand.

"MacIntosh." He looked so much older than the last time we'd met, but then I'm sure I did too. The war had aged everyone who had survived it thus far. He was as tall as I remembered and despite having lost weight, he had retained his impressive stature. Even as a child he had loomed over me by several inches.

"You're alive." I couldn't help but state in surprise. I had been sure his arrogance would have earned him a death within the first few months of fighting.  
"You are too it would seem, thanks to me." Aye, there was that arrogance.

"I was doing fine before you came along." The panic was starting to fade, and I let my body relax back down onto the cot, my shoulder burned as I tried to find a comfortable position. The pain must have shown on my face as Macintosh's expression softened for a moment before settling back into bravado.

"You were bleeding like a stuck pig, if I hadn't stumbled across you when I did you would have bled out." He gestured to the arm I was cradling against my side. Glancing back at my shoulder I noticed a large tear in my blouse, the majority of skin revealed had a large dressing covering it, wisps of moss peeked out from the edges. "It's my own remedy, supplies are kind of scare these days."

"You ripped my dress." I yelled. He had saved my life. I should feel grateful but instead I was angry. "How did you find me anyway? I'd have thought you'd be long dead by now."

"Still as charming as ever." Macintosh sighed as he lowered himself to the floor laying the bow next to him before holding his fingers out to the warmth of the fire.

"What're you doing with my bow?" I demanded to know, I felt ill at ease that he was armed, and I was not. I had known Macintosh since we were bairns but these days you couldn’t trust a soul, no matter how long you’d known them.

MacIntosh looked down at the bow resting by his side. “I lost my weapon.” He said without looking up, his gaze was fixed on the string but even from here I could tell that his eyes were seeing elsewhere.

“Three weeks ago,” He continued, “I still had some men left, we’d found a dense patch of woodland and had been sheltering there for a few days. The men wanted to stay and rest for a while longer, but I knew we had to move on. They wouldn’t listen.” Heaving a large sigh and picked up the bow. He ran his fingers over the once smooth carvings, now they were chipped and damaged from three years of fighting and running.

“I made the order to pack up and leave but they revolted, said I was no longer fit to lead them, that I’d made too many bad decisions and lost too many men. They over powered me, took my sword and bow, gave me just a day’s supplies then told me to leave. I walked just a mile away before stopping and waiting the night to see if they would come to their senses. Something woke in the wee hours and I could do nothing but watch as Baird and his men ambushed them in their sleep. They didnae stand a chance.”

“You just left?” I scoffed. “The Macintosh I knew would never leave.”

“Aye, well I’m not the Macintosh you knew. None of us are the same people we were before the war. You?” He gestured an arm towards me. “You were always independent and headstrong, but the Merida I knew still had compassion and kindness. You’re hard now, we've barely been talking five minutes and I can already see it.”

“So, what, you’ve just been in hiding since then? Lurking about the undergrowth? Macintosh you were a soldier! What happened to you?” I shouted angrily.

“YOU!” He yelled back. “YOU HAPPENED, MERIDA! YOU AND YOUR STUBBORNNESS!” He stood up quickly and began to pace up and down the short width of the cave, his arms waving mainly as he ranted. “You plough headfirst into things without thinking. You lashed out when the clans vied for your hand in marriage the first time but now? Now there’s a war because of you, because you couldn’t just follow tradition. Because you had to have your own way.”

“Macintosh, you don’t know what you’re...”

“You’re selfish, Merida, people have been killed because of your selfishness.”

“I had...”

“You had a duty, to your family, to your clan, to unite us and you betrayed everyone! Thousands of people are dead because of you!”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” I bellowed, rage filled my every pore and spilled out as I pushed myself toward him, my fists clenched and leading the way.

Blinding, white hot pain bust through my shoulder as my right fist connected with his jaw. The left quickly followed but he grabbed my wrist stopping it in its tracks.

“DON’T YOU DARE! DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW?” I struggled against his grip desperate to hit him again, desperate to make him feel my pain. “HOW COULD I? HOW COULD I MARRY THAT MONSTER?” The pain was intense, but I swung again with my right arm, my knuckles were about to connect with his cheek when he caught it, his long fingers holding my wrist securely. I struggled with all my remaining strength.

“YOU THINK I DON’T SEE THEM? SEE THEIR FACES? MY MUM, MY DAD.” I breath was shortening as my anger intensified. “I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF MY BROTHERS ARE STILL ALIVE! YOU THINK I DON’T FEEL GUILTY?”

“Merida, calm yourself...” He scolded as if he were talking to an ill-behaved toddler.

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH BLOOD ON MY HANDS? I DO!” I pulled on my wrists desperate to release them from his grip. My chest felt tight and my shoulder screamed tears streamed down my cheeks which were flushed with rage.

“Merida! You’re going to tear your wound!”

“I know! I know but you don’t! You don’t...you...” The world was spinning, my breath was rapid, my legs gave way, but I was spared from hitting the floor when Macintosh caught me for a second time that day.

“Breathe!” He commanded.

“I...can’t...” There was a roaring in my ears and spots danced in my vision. “...help...”

“It’s ok, you’re going to be ok, here.” He took one of my hands and placed it on his chest. “Breathe with me.” He drew in a deep breath.

“I...can’t.” My lungs still moved to fast, pulling in and releasing the air at a rapid rate.

“Yes, you can, concentrate. Feel my breath.” He placed his hand over mine. “In. Out.” I stared at his hand watching it rise and fall in a steady motion. “Merida.” He cradled my chin with his free hand drawing my eyes up to his. I had never seen such fear on his face.

I held his gaze as my breath began to slow. “Macintosh.”

“Callan.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“My name. It’s Callan.” He stroked his thumb over my cheek.

“I’ve known you since I was a babe in arms. How did I not know your name?”

“My father always hated it, said it wasn’t a strong name.”

He dropped his hand from my face and with it the warmth disappeared instantly. I compensated by pushing my hand more firmly against the muscles in his chest. A sudden hesitance settled in his features and he pulled back, my hand fell from its perch and into my lap.

“I need to check your wound.” He said matter of factly. He moved behind me and began removing he bandage. Whilst still gentle with his touch it was not as tender. Something had spooked him.

It had been a long time since I had felt another’s touch, a hug, a hand held, you take it for granted and never realise how much it will be missed. Callan’s sure and steady fingers on my skin made me yearn to be held. To be comforted. To be loved. I was suddenly aware of just how alone I was.

"I was seven when I first met Baird.” The words had left my mouth before I could stop them. “Dad had invited him to the castle for the summer games. I remember asking mum if he were a giant, I’d never seen a man so big, bigger even than dad and wider to boot. He came back occasionally over the years, but I never really spent much time in his company.”

Callan reached for a small wooden bowl that was propped near the edge of the fire pit, the remains of a green paste coated the insides.

"This might sting a little." He warned as he scooped some out on his fingers. I grimaced as he spread the mixture over the arrows wound.

"Do you remember my thirteenth birthday?" I asked Callan.

"Aye," he said after a short pause. "You disappeared for half of the day, not a soul could find you, when you reappeared you were inconsolable. Something had upset you so bad that Maudie had put you straight to bed." He passed the bowl over my shoulder indicating for me to take it. I placed it back on the floor near the embers.

"Someone," I corrected him. "Someone upset me so bad."

"What did he do?" Calum asked, his voice was hesitant.

"Have you ever been so scared that you cannae breathe? So scared that you cannae even move?"

"Not to that extent, no." He answered thoughtfully. "But I have felt fear."

"I was in the kitchens, sneaking some buns for my brothers, Baird caught me red handed, I didnae know he was there, or why he was there. He said I shouldn't be stealing, that it was wrong and that if he were my dad, he'd whip me." I squeezed my eyes shut as the memory replayed itself so clear in my mind. "He said that one day he'd be looking for a wife, someone to clean his castle, cook his food, and bare his children." Suppressing a shudder at the thought I changed the subject for a moment. "How's my shoulder?"

"There no further damage." Callan said as he rewrapped the bandages. "But you'll need to take it easy for a few days."

"I cannae promise that." I said with a small laugh.

"Aye, well, you get an infection and you'll be no use to anyone." Callan countered. He tucked in the ends of the bandages then reached behind him to the cot and pulled off the bear skins, he'd draped it over my shoulders before settling himself on the floor by the fire. He took hold of the spoon in the pot and stirred the contents occasionally adding pinches of herbs he pulled from various pouches.

"When was the last time you ate?" He asked as he pulled two wooden bowls and spoons from his pack.

"Um, two, maybe three days ago?" My brain was muddled.

"You must be famished, it's nearly ready." He gave the pot a last stir then sat back against the opposite wall. "So, Baird." He prompted.

"Baird," I repeated with a sigh. "He said I would make a fine wife, that he would enjoy my company in his bed. I was thirteen! I was still a child, yet he was talking about taking me to bed!" I scoffed and shook my head. "No man should be thinking that when looking at a child. It's not right."

"No, it's not." Callan agreed solemnly.

"He had me trapped against the table, I couldnae move past him. He smelt of smoke and dirt and man. He told me that he liked my spunk but when he wedded me, I would behave in a proper wifely manner or he would beat me, as any good husband should. And I believed him. I believed he was capable of it. I'd heard tales of his skill in battle, of the fights in the taverns, of the women he claimed to have conquered. I thought that was the worst of it, I thought that he would leave me after that, but he grabbed me and pulled me to him, his hands gripped my arms so tightly they held bruises for weeks. He looked me dead in the eye and said 'aye, you'll do nicely', then he kissed me. My first kiss, taken by that...that monster. His hands were all over me, pulling at my clothes. I only got away because he heard Maudie calling for me just outside the door."

A clap of thunder sounded outside, and the mouth of the cave was flooded with light, it revealed Angus lying just inside a pile of oats in front of him which he was snuffling through, he too had a bear skin draped over his back. The sight of my horse so well cared for tugged at my heart.

Macintosh, Callan, the bully boy from my childhood who pulled on my curls and dropped tadpoles down the back of my clothes, he'd cared for me which such tenderness, dressed my wounds, made sure I was safe while I was unconscious, cooked. He had grown into a man.

"I'm sorry, Merida." Calum whispered after a few minutes had passed. His eyes were red and glazed, close to tears. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It's not your fault, you're not him." I shrugged.

"No, but I judged you." He said honestly. "At the games, when you defied your mother and shot arrows for your own hand, I thought you were just being stubborn, difficult, even. I never imagined..." He trailed off. "I never imagined that."

My stomach growled again breaking the awkward silence that had grown following my tale. It succeeded in breaking the atmosphere and neither of us could help but laugh.

"Aye, I agree, it's time to eat." He ladled broth into both of the bowls and handed one to me.

"Thank you." I said catching and holding his eye hoping my words conveyed more than just thanks for the meal. He smiled and nodded at me before settling himself by my side to eat his own dish.

As I sat there savouring the warmth from my own portion, I realised my injured arm was useless, I could not lift it long enough to either support the bowl or the spoon. I was considering my options when Callan asked if I needed some help and I sheepishly nodded. He rested his bowl on the floor forgetting his own hunger while he held mine for me, allowing me to feed myself.

I couldn't remember the last time I had tasted anything so good. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the warmth filling me from within. In minutes I had finished, and Callan was refilling the bowl and the second helping disappeared just as fast.

"Thank you." I said again as I leant back against the cot, my stomach full and my heart warm. Callan finished his food before joining me in quiet contemplation.

"You know, right now, I could almost forget there's a war going on." He said looking around the cave. I had done my best to make it comfortable whilst keeping it discreet in the hopes to not be discovered. "I can think of worse places to grow old." He chuckled.

"I can't stay here forever," I said reluctantly. "You found me so there's a chance others will."

"Where will you go next?"

"I dinnae know, maybe south?"

"There's not much left to the south." He said. "No people, few animals."

"Maybe that's for the best, less chance of be discovered. What about you? What will you do without your men?" I struggled to read the look on his face. Was it disappointment? Had he been hoping I would ask a different question?

"I don't know." He said quietly. Another clap of thunder boomed outside, the light in flashing shortly after it. "I'm going to go..." he spun his finger in the air indicating he was going to check the perimeter of the cave. “You should rest some more."

He stood and grabbed his cloak swinging it over his shoulders as he headed to the mouth of the cave. He stopped in the entrance and turned back to me. "I...not all men are like Baird, Merida." He didn't wait for me to reply, he headed out into the pouring rain and disappeared into the night.

He was right, not all men were like Baird, but it's like being bitten by a dog, from then on you are weary of it happening again. If I were to marry, it must be for love. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life alone but with our country on the verge of extinction it was looking like the only path.

Feeling weary all of a sudden, I pulled myself up onto the cot and laid down, I shuffled for a few minutes trying to find a comfortable position for my shoulder before finally settling on my side.

Was Callan hoping we would join forces? Trek the highlands together, hoping from cave to cave until we were finally captured and killed. Things had suddenly become so much more complicated.


End file.
